


Ruined Things

by dream_vs_nightmare



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gremma, hints of RedHuntsman and RedSwan if ya squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream_vs_nightmare/pseuds/dream_vs_nightmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the first three calls, she figured Emma’d been drunk. But then, then she’d picked up and listened, really listened - and she'd realized that Emma was crying. Crying, swearing, sobbing…it’d been a month since then, and Em hasn’t talked about it since. Hasn’t talked about /him/ since. And she needs to.</p><p>Emma, Ruby, and all the things they don't talk about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruined Things

**Author's Note:**

> Or, the RedSwan fic that's been sitting on my computer for ages and ages without a home. This is more or less the original version, though plot points have been added here and there. Takes place sometime after 1x15 "Red Handed", where Ruby's wolf instincts have become more pronounced.

* * *

 "You wanna talk about it?” Ruby asks as her gaze meets Emma’s. Her hair’s dark from the rain, blonde curls hanging heavier down her back as she strides over to the counter. It’s been a month since that night at the sheriff’s station, when she’d called and called and _called_ Ruby. After the first three calls, she figured Emma’d been drunk. But then, then she’d picked up and listened, really listened - and she'd realized that Emma was crying. Crying, swearing, sobbing…it’d been a month since then, and Em hasn’t talked about it since. Hasn’t talked about _him_ since.

And she needs to.

“No.” Emma says as she sits down in her usual spot, the one closest to the door.

“Okay.” Ruby gets that, understands it, even, and doesn’t try to push the subject. “I’ll be back in a sec if you need anything.” 

She offers Emma a half-smile and a quick squeeze of her shoulder as she moves out from behind the counter. And Emma just nods her head and sips at her hot cocoa like everything’s fine. Like she’s fine. Like the sheriff hadn’t died in her arms a month ago, like she hadn’t cried and swore and sobbed and _screamed_ for him to come back. 

She had. But he still hadn’t come back.

Sometimes, before Ruby’s due in for work, she’ll walk the long stretch of highway that leads to the town’s edge and look to the tree line. Like maybe he’ll be there, like maybe he’ll come back after all. She doesn’t know why he’d be in the woods of all places, but there’d been a night where she’d dreamt of him and hearts and wolves and it’d all _made sense to her, then._

She'd loved him too, once, but when she wakes, she can't remember _when_. That should spook her, she thinks.

“Mary-Margaret’s always asking if I want to talk about it.” Emma says later, when Ruby’s back in plain-clothes and they're walking by the ruined pier. Everything’s ruined here. The mornings, the nights, the days, but she can never quite remember why. A cold chill moves down her spine when the Mayor passes by, all poised and proper, hard and  _cold_ , and she thinks Regina ruined it. She thinks Regina ruined everything. But she doesn’t know how, can’t remember how the further they walk.

“Like that day with the toaster. She thought all that had something to do with…” It takes Ruby’s brain a second to catch up, but it’s easy enough to fill in the missing pieces. She’d thought it’d had something to do with Graham.

And even now, when they’re well away from listening ears, Emma doesn’t say his name. Won’t. It’s like she physically _can’t_ , like she’s thrown up a wall around his whole existence, and to talk about him would mean letting that wall fall down and away, into a deep and churning sea of everything else she must've drowned and buried over the years. But she’s still wearing the leather bracelet, touches it every now and again to make sure it’s there. Ruby thinks it must’ve been his, but she doesn’t know the truth of it. Not really, anyway.

Emma's gaze goes unseeing a moment, and in that moment, Ruby has to wonder if she imagines him, before. If she imagines _them,_ before. Before everything was ruined again. “With that.”

And that’s all the answer she needs, really.

Ruby looks to the water as they walk, and Emma wraps her arms around herself to ward off the chill. “She looks at me like I’m about to break, but it’s like even if I did, she’d probably offer to help me pick up the pieces, because that’s just what she _does._ ”

“She’s good at it, isn’t she?” Comes Ruby’s answer, then - knowing, soft, and sad.

“She is.” Emma murmurs in agreement before falling quiet once more. Long moments of silence fall and stretch between them, with neither moving to dispel the quiet that’s wrapped around them like a blanket. It’s easy, this quiet. But everything’s easy, with Emma. Easy and new, and the newness is what terrifies Ruby more than anything else. Because she’s not supposed to do anything new, not supposed to  _feel_ anything new. And this...this is new and good and it's not broken yet, but she knows it will be soon. She doesn’t know how she knows that, though, just like she doesn’t know how Emma’s here. Because she's not supposed to be, but she is. She is and she’s hurting.

“And then there’s David, who I don’t even really _know._ ” Emma shakes her head as she speaks up again, smiling even as her voice hitches on something that sounds like a sob.

_"_ He’salways asking how I’m doing or if I need anything, or trying to talk to me about _the damn weather._ ” She laughs here, and it sounds like the furthest thing from joy Ruby’s ever known. And Ruby doesn’t know if it’s the wind or the sea or the ruined, wrongness of the day, but she thinks Emma Swan’s about to cry. “Like it ever changes, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” She knows it doesn’t, and she knows that that should probably spook her. But it doesn’t.

“It’s almost like he’s trying to be my psuedo-dad or something.” She can feel something deep inside her unraveling when Emma says it. _Dad_. Are they still talking about David? Because he is just as much as he isn’t. And she doesn’t know how that’s possible. “I mean, c’mon. I don’t even have a goddamn real one and it’s like…it’s like-“

“Like he’s doing too good a job filling in?” Comes a rich, accented voice a ways behind them. 

They turn away from the water to find one Mr. Gold staring back at them. But it’s like the pawn broker’s only got eyes for Emma, and Ruby’s quick to step in front of her. To shield her. " _Don’t._ " It comes out on a snarl.

She doesn’t know what he wants, but he’s always one to get his way. And he can’t with Emma. 

_ He can’t.  _

Gold tilts his head at the move, amusement flickering in his knowing, knowing eyes for a moment (and she thinks they were green, once, green and ancient and more reptilian than human). “Well. That’s an interesting development indeed.”

“I don’t need anything…” Emma starts, sentence stretching out as she waits for Gold to fill it. To say Graham’s name so she won’t have to. But he doesn’t.

“Of his.” Still, nothing. 

Ruby can hear Emma’s heart beating hard and loud in her chest when she finally says it, when she finally forces his name out of her mouth.

“I don’t need anything of Graham’s, Mr. Gold. I’m fine.”

“I suppose not.” He says in a way that implies he doesn’t suppose at all. And then, as cryptic as he is nonchalant, “But you will soon enough, Miss Swan."

And then he turns away, moving back up the road and towards the town without another word. Emma turns to Ruby once he’s gone, looking to the woman’s red, red nails curled tight ‘round her sleeve and the fierce expression in her eyes. Her own eyes are still wet with tears, and dammit, dammit, dammit, _dammit_ \- she’d not wanted that to be the first time she’d said his name in a month, hadn’t wanted Gold of all people to know that she- that she’s still-

She presses her fingers to the leather cord wrapped tight around her wrist, the same cord that used to lace up Graham’s boots. She’d not wanted anyone else to _know_ that, to know how deep his absence had cut her. But now Gold does.

And she’s not sure if it’s the gray haze of the afternoon or the strange, otherworldly fog that's blanketing the beach, but as Emma turns to look at Ruby, she swears that for a second, just one, her eyes flicker golden, predatory, as she watches Mr. Gold head back up the way he came.

“Rubes, what the hell was that?” She asks over the sounds of the sea and cries of the gulls.

Ruby drops her hand from Emma’s arm and shakes her head to clear the dizzy spell.  _It’s happening again._

The gold drains from her eyes and the snarl slips from her mouth, and she gives Emma the confused, frightened look of a child just waking from a nightmare when she says, “I…I don’t know.”

She really doesn’t know.

Emma gives her a sidelong glance and says, eyes red-rimmed, "Does that ever scare you?"

Ruby laughs then, the sound ruined and broken, and murmurs, "Sometimes, yeah."

* * *

 

The two of them linger in the diner long after it closes that night, drinking hot cocoa with Bailey's in the dark because Ruby's too lazy to turn the lights on. Or too drunk. Maybe both. But talking's easier when she's drunk, and she likes talking to Emma.

She tells her things she' never really told anyone before, about the dreams that feel more like memories, and the memories that feel more like nightmares. She tells her about all the things she's ruined, all the things she's broken, and Emma looks at her like _she understands_.

But she doesn't interrupt, doesn't say anything, just lets Ruby talk late into the night. And she appreciates that, needs that, more than she'll ever say.

It's only when Ruby's leaning her head on Emma's shoulder some hours later, mind in that soft, hazy place between dreams and the waking world, that she swears she hears Emma say, "I loved him, y'know? And I've never-I didn't get to..."

"He loved you too, Em." And Ruby doesn't know if it's because of that talk they'd had by the pier or the way they've started sharing lunches and secrets and nights over the last month, but Emma Swan actually lets out a sob before she says, "I know. And it didn't scare me, with him."

 

**Author's Note:**

> #SorryNotSorry.
> 
> A fix-it fic for three of my favorite characters: Ruby/Red, Emma and Graham. The (eventual) companion piece will probably be OT3 inspired and very, very feelsy.


End file.
